‘Try.’ Stella tilted her chin and looked into her daughter’s eyes. ‘I’ll relieve you. Pretend I’m your midwife. You know you do the same for those mums who have problems with their babies and they’ve tried everything. The ones who struggle into the maternity ward totally exhausted, not knowing which way to turn, totally bushed.’ She lifted her hands. ‘I’m your midwife. It’s your turn. Forget your troubles briefly.’

Ava rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t have breastfeeding problems, Mum!’

‘You’re sleep-deprived and stressed, with a recent head injury.’ Stella hugged her. ‘Is it surprising then that the most resilient girl in the world thinks everything is too much?’ She patted her hand. ‘Your problems will all still be there when you get back from your timeout. We’ll all be here for you. But your head will be clearer.’

Ava sagged into the lounge. Could she just pass it all over for the night? Pretend her mother held it all between her capable hands in a fanciful ball, like one of Mim’s skeins of wool for her beanies? Ava met her mother’s gaze with her own and admitted the idea held sense. ‘It does sound wonderful.’

‘It’s done. I have all your troubles here.’ She patted her chest. ‘Now, I’ll make you a special pot of chamomile-and-vanilla tea and tell Zac when he comes back that you’ve gone to bed. Tomorrow is a new day and will come soon enough.’

When Ava woke the next morning, she did feel surprisingly more in control. Mim arrived with the first cup of tea for her and then perched on the side of the bed.

‘How do you feel, Ava?’

She couldn’t believe it. ‘Better. I don’t know how Mum did it, but I did seem to be able to turn off my whirling brain for the night. Maybe the tea helped.’ She sat up straighter and took the cup and saucer. ‘Thank you, Mim.’ She could breathe without a heavy weight on her chest, which was a good thing. ‘If his memory doesn’t return and we don’t end up together, then perhaps the magic I thought we had was grounded in an illusion.’

‘Oh, darling.’ Mim struggled with not offering advice and lost. ‘Are you sure you shouldn’t just tell him he proposed?’

‘Positive.’ She kept her voice level. ‘I refuse to make him feel trapped.’

With a supreme effort of will, Mim said, ‘You know what’s best for you.’ She squeezed Ava’s hand. ‘Be yourself. He has to fall in love with you. I have no idea how he’s held out for so long. How could he not?’